Sore Throats
by kazooband
Summary: Jack loses his voice, chaos ensues. And now he's contagious. COMPLETE!
1. Jack

Author's Note: The unfortunate result of spending the weekend touring a college and trying to get over my own sore throat in time for a musical audition on Monday only to get laid out with the stomach flu as soon as I got back. Ah, the ironic world we live in.

Season: Anytime after Jolinar's Memories/The Devil you know when Sam's a Major, Jack's a Colonel, and neither Daniel nor Janet are dead.

Spoilers: Thor's Chariot, Fair Game, Jolinar's Memories, and The Devil You Know

Pairings: Some S/J if you choose to look at it like that.

Jack's thoughts are in italics and his cue cards are in bold.

XXXXXXXX

**Sore Throats**

Chapter 1: Jack

XXXXXXXX

Beep, beep, beep, be-smack.

Jack stared at the offending alarm clock, highly annoyed. The force he'd put behind his attack at the snooze button had knocked the thing to the floor where it sat staring the time at him.

He had half a mind to go back to bed for awhile, but apparently he'd already done that twice, judging by the time, although he couldn't remember waking up before.

He sat up and yawned, scratching at his head, then stopped contemplatively. He opened his mouth, then closed it again and rubbed at the sides of his neck. He attempted to clear his throat but stopped when he realized just how much that hurt and settled for swallowing instead, which was only slightly better.

Finally, he called out "Testing, 1, 2, 3" to his bedroom, or at least he tried, all that actually made it out were some random, choppy sounds that didn't bear any resemblance to what he'd been trying to say.

He had no voice, none, whatsoever, nada. For crying out loud, no, not out loud…damnit.

A nagging voice at the back of his mind that sounded like a suspicious cross between Doctor Fraiser and his mother informed him that hot tea would help, but he chose to ignore it, he hated that stuff and this'd clear up soon enough. He showered and changed, all the time testing his voice, but to no avail, by the time he left he was even worse off than he'd been when he woke up.

XXXXXXXX

"If there's nothing else then, Colonel," General Hammond said, wrapping up SG-1's briefing.

Jack merely shook his head, prompting the General to look at him suspiciously. He'd been awful quiet all briefing. Come to think of it, Hammond wasn't quite sure he'd spoken at all.

"Are you all right, Jack?"

A nod, something was definitely up, and no one was leaving until he got to the bottom of it.

"Colonel?" the General asked menacingly, tactfully not making an explanation an order but simultaneously reminding the man of his rank.

Jack sighed. He'd managed to make it all morning without saying anything, a record for him. It was actually kind of fun glaring down anyone in the halls who looked like they wanted to talk to him, but he could go without staying holed up in his office.

The General was staring at him pointedly, and he knew there would be no getting out of this, so he opened his mouth in an attempt to speak; only managing a small squeak. He clamped his mouth shut and glanced around the table, attempting to quell the rising embarrassment. Hammond was still staring at him, along with everyone else, so he cleared his throat and tried again.

"I've got a sore throat, sir," he managed, barely.

The effect was instantaneous and not the one that Jack had expected. Everyone around the table tensed, looking at him with confused horror and the airmen stationed around the room all had their guns trained on his head and chest. It took Jack a moment to figure out what they were so afraid of; due to his sore throat, his voice had sounded considerably deeper than usual, enough that he might be mistaken for a Goa'uld, but only to the untrained ear. He chose to give his companions the benefit of the doubt and assume he had merely caught them off guard.

Jack cleared his throat again and croaked, "It's me, I'm just sick."

"Major?" General Hammond asked.

"I don't sense anything, sir," Sam replied.

"Escort him to the infirmary, just to make sure," the General ordered.

"Yes, sir," Sam said, getting up.

An airman followed them all the way there and remained posted at the door, gun in hand. Doctor Fraiser checked his neck for entry scars, gave him a CAT scan, and performed a throat swab, then came back fifteen minutes later to inform him that he had a sore throat.

_Thanks, I never would have guessed that._

She then prescribed hot tea for him and, upon seeing the disgusted look on his face, assigned Sam to make sure he actually followed her orders.

XXXXXXXXXX

They ended up in the commissary at the exact time Jack preferred to avoid it, the transition between morning and afternoon shifts, where everyone on base seemed to be either coming or going and the room was incredibly crowded. If he'd been able to speak, Fraiser and Carter would have gotten an earful. Jack and Sam cycled through the buffet; Sam making sure that Jack actually got tea and not coffee, then sat down. They were rescued from their silence by Daniel and Teal'c, who arrived a few minutes later, although Jack soon decided that he would have rather been left alone.

"How's it going Jack?" Daniel asked, smiling impishly. "Glad to know you're not a Goa'uld. Very nice impression, by the way."

Jack glared at him.

_Easy, Space Monkey_.

"Honestly, I don't know if I've ever heard anyone who wasn't a Goa'uld talk that low, you should try going into a bar a talking like that, see what happens," Daniel continued, ignoring Jack's silent protests.

_Bit too much coffee this morning?_

"Daniel, you've been working on translating that inscription we found on P4R-358, right?" Sam asked, drawing the attention away from Jack. He glanced at her gratefully.

"Oh, yeah, it's coming along really well. It seems to refer to a meeting place where all the great minds of their culture used to go. They seemed pretty advanced before they were wiped out, if we find it, we might be able to gather some new technology," Daniel said excitedly.

Oh, of course, how stupid of me, the only thing that can get Daniel that pumped up was some human rights violation or an Earth shattering discovery.

Apparently, Daniel was not to be deterred and turned his attention back to Jack. "You know this is way more fun when you can't defend yourself."

_Human rights violation!_

"You might want to leave him alone, Daniel," Sam suggested.

"Just taking advantage of an opportunity," Daniel shrugged.

_I've misjudged you, Danny-boy, all this time I thought you wouldn't attack those weaker than you. Guess I was wrong, I'm going to have to rethink my entire opinion of you._

"What do you figure he's thinking right now?" Daniel asked Sam and Teal'c. Jack smacked his hands to his head and rubbed his eyes and temples dejectedly.

_Oh, for crying out loud!_

"For crying out loud?" Sam suggested, observing his gestures. Jack stared at her

_How'd she do that?_

"He want's to know how I did that," Sam translated. Jack buried his head in his hands.

"What's that?" Daniel asked, looking at Jack.

"He's making a mental note to quit being so predictable," Sam replied. Jack sat up straight and stared at her.

"Now he wants to know when I became telepathic," Sam said. Jack attempted to make his face as impassive as possible but that didn't stop Sam. "A long but mild string of cuss words followed by the declaration to avoid thinking as much as possible."

Jack sighed as placed his chin in his hand. Daniel decided to take a stab at mind reading. "Is he thinking about getting back to work to avoid us?"

"Actually, he's still trying not to think," Sam said. Jack started scribbling on a napkin. When he finished she took the note, read it, and said, "Although I'm fairly certain he wants us to leave him alone."

"Oh, come on," Daniel said. "He does this to us all the time."

"I suggest we follow his request, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said stoically. "Although he may not be able to defend himself verbally he is still far your superior physically."

Jack gave Daniel a look which even he could translate correctly.

_Excellent point, Teal'c._

"At least we don't have any missions for a few days," Sam said, once again trying to change the subject.

"That's true," Daniel added, catching on. "Then you'll have plenty of time to get your voice back before you have to be our fearless leader again." Maybe he hadn't gotten the hint.

_Give it up, Daniel._

Suddenly, Jack was enveloped in a white light and disappeared.

"Irony," was all Daniel managed to squeak out as Sam ran and hit the alarm on the wall.

XXXXXXXXX

Jack spun around in place, searching for the diminutive inhabitant of the ship. Instinctively, he made to call out for Thor to show himself, and the failed attempt earned him a fit of coughing.

Naturally, Thor chose that moment to materialize and stood watching Jack with a bemused expression on his face. When Jack had recovered sufficiently, or so Thor thought, the Asgard said, "Greetings O'Neill."

Jack clamped his mouth shut and waved his answer at Thor, who tilted his head and gave him a strange look.

"Are you well, O'Neill?" Thor asked.

Jack shook his head.

"What is the nature of your illness?"

Jack looked around desperately for a way to explain himself, then sighed and started trying to mime his condition to the alien. He didn't seem to understand; maybe the Asgard didn't get sore throats. Finally, Jack dropped down to his knees in front of Thor so they were eye to eye and whispered, "Can you bring Major Carter up here?"

Even this small effort sent Jack into another fit of coughing, where he remained as Thor moved to the control panel. A moment later, the room was bathed in light and Sam appeared, mid rant.

"-'re doing everything we can!" she yelled, then caught herself as she realized where she was. "Hey, I found you," she said happily, a little embarrassed.

"Major Carter," Thor said.

"Thor," Sam said, helping Jack up. "What's going on?"

"Colonel O'Neill requested your presence," Thor explained. "He seems unable to speak for himself."

"Yeah," Sam cringed, "he's sick, lost his voice, he can't talk at all."

"That is most unfortunate," Thor said.

"He'll get better in a few da…" Sam started.

"His negotiating skills are required," Thor informed them.

Jack and Sam looked taken aback, had he really just called the Colonel a skilled negotiator?

"Erm," Sam stammered, "are you sure you want him?" Ordinarily, Jack might have been offended by such a statement, but he happened to agree with her.

"Of course," Thor replied. "The Asgard council is in complete agreement; Colonel O'Neill is the best person for the job."

"What exactly is the job?" Sam asked.

"An Asgard protected planet has recently become advanced enough to solve the riddle of their Hall of Might and is now aware of our existence. However, the society was not ready for this knowledge. A civil war appears imminent."

"What do you need Colonel O'Neill for?" Sam asked.

"Since it was the Asgard who indirectly caused this conflict, it is our duty to attempt to prevent it," Thor replied. "However, we believe that having an individual of human form present during the talks will make those involved more receptive to our advice."

"You still haven't told us why you need Colonel O'Neill specifically," Sam pressed.

"As when we negotiated for Earth's inclusion in the protected planets treaty, I know O'Neill to be a skilled and strong leader and our preferred representative of Earth," Thor replied.

"That all doesn't change the fact that he can't talk," Sam reminded him. "What kind of timeframe are we working with here?"

"Speed is of the utmost importance," Thor said. "The situation on the planet could disintegrate at any moment."

"Is there anything you can do for him, then?" Sam asked.

"Nothing that has been tested on humans," Thor replied. "I cannot be sure of the results."

"Right," Sam sighed.

Jack poked her in the shoulder and caught her eye. Sam got the idea.

"Sorry, sir," she said. "What do you think?"

Jack changed his expression slightly.

"Good point, why don't I go report back to General Hammond and you can stay here and get caught up," Sam said. "If that's all right, of course," she added quickly.

Jack sighed, thinking no doubt of the fun he was sure to have getting reacquainted with diplomacy, but ultimately agreed.

"You can contact me with this," Thor said, handing Sam a crystal. "We will remain in orbit until we hear from you, but please make haste."

"Good luck, sir," Sam said. "I'll try to come up with a way to get around your little speech problem."

Sam was enveloped in a white light and disappeared.

"The planet in question is called Nameriat," Thor began.

Jack sat down and tried to get comfortable.

XXXXXXXXX

Jack lit up when he heard Sam's voice over the ship's intercom.

"Thor, can you bring me and some gear up?"

"Standby," Thor replied.

A moment later Sam was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a few cases. Jack's heart sank when he saw she was wearing her dress uniform and held a garment bag which most likely contained his own.

"Been busy, I see," she said, observing the piles of papers covered in scribbles occupying random places in the room.

Jack flipped through the pile nearest him, then held a paper up.

**Yep **

"Well, General Hammond approved the mission on the conditions that I come with you and that after the situation is resolved we see about trading with the planet, assuming we can find their stargate, of course."

"The stargate is in fact unburied and only a few miles away from the capital city," Thor informed them.

"All right, that was easy," Sam said.

Jack went through his papers again and pulled out another.

**Sweet **

"You know, sir, as great as this form of communication is, I don't think it will work so well on the planet," Sam said.

**No **

"Did you come up with anything else?" Sam asked.

Jack shook the sign pointedly.

**No **

"We did try the remedy I suggested," Thor said. "There was no improvement."

"Right," Sam sighed. "Well I don't think you're going to like my plan very much. You know those Tok'ra memory devices?"

Jack winced.

"Yeah, those," Sam continued. "They gave us one for study as thanks after the Netu incident. If we put it on you and hook it up to one of the display screens then you could communicate through your memories. If we keep it on a low setting then you should be able to prevent any random memories for being displayed, you'd just have to concentrate."

Jack went through his papers again, and, not finding what he was looking for flipped one over and wrote something on the back then held it up.

**Fun **

"Sorry, sir," Sam shrugged. "It's the best I've got."

"This is actually most fortunate," Thor said. "The way we can say that you are telepathic and incapable of normal speech, and that the memory device is the only means of communication between our two peoples."

"All right," Sam said, "but why bother? I thought the idea was to introduce a third party sympathetic to the Asgard but whom the indigenous people could relate to. It seems like this would only alienate them from us. Why can't we just tell them Colonel's O'Neill's sick?"

"Because the Nameriatans view illness as a sign of weakness. Even the most mildly sick are sequestered off from everyday society until they become well," Thor explained.

"Oh," Sam said, wisely keeping her opinions on the subject to herself.

"However, your concerns about further alienating the Nameriatans are duly noted. "Perhaps you could represent a portion of your population with the ability to speak. This way you could also explain anything Colonel O'Neill cannot relay through memories alone or explain any information he deems too complex to use the display for."

"I can do that, but I don't like how much we're going to have to lie to these people," Sam said. "We're supposed to be laying the groundwork for a diplomatic relationship."

Jack nodded his agreement

"A diplomatic relationship with a society that has destroyed itself will be impossible," Thor reminded them.

"Good point," Sam sighed.

Jack caught her eye and shrugged, Sam took the hint. "How am I supposed to communicate Colonel O'Neill's thoughts since we're not actually telepathic?"

"On several occasions now I have observed you and Colonel O'Neill carrying on conversations without him speaking, you would merely be required to do the same," Thor replied.

"But that's only general ideas," Sam said. "Sure it'd help, but won't talks like this require more tangible thoughts?"

"Do not humans have a means by which to communicate without words that would be suitable for this situation?" Thor asked.

Sam shrugged and said, "How's your Morse code, sir?"

Jack stared at her a moment then tapped out a rhythm against the floor.

"Mine too," Sam replied. "Although I'm fairly certain that S is dot, dot, dot."

Jack threw his hands up in despair.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Sam said with a smirk. "Daniel says to have fun."

_I'm gonna kill that Space Monkey_.

XXXXXXXXXX

They arrived at the planet an hour later then beamed down to a large meeting hall.

Jack narrowly resisted the urge to tug nervously at the collar of his dress uniform and fiddle with the memory device on his temple. Had the entire planet showed up? He hadn't expected nearly this many people.

Someone introduced Thor who introduced Jack and Sam. Everyone seemed to perk up at the sight of them and seemed even more interested when Thor said they were telepathic. For a group that was so xenophobic about the Asgard they didn't seem to have much of a problem with differences among those who were human in appearance.

The talk seemed to go on for hours, with Jack showing his memories of Earth's experiences with the Asgard. He learned to manipulate the device relatively well, but nevertheless still disconnected from it and asked Sam to explain about anything he couldn't get at without thinking of something dirty first.

The audience was finally starting to look convinced of the Asgard's benevolence when Jack sat back in his chair a moment, listening to Thor speak. Without thinking about it, he cleared his throat, then did it again. It didn't hurt! Unable to help himself, he spoke a few quiet words. They sounded just like normal. Thor's cure must have worked after all!

Much to the surprise of everyone present, Jack jumped up and cried out "Yes!" the display behind him jumping between memories.

Everyone, including Thor and Sam, were taken aback by the sudden outburst and it didn't take long for the inhabitants to become incensed with being lied to. It took all of Thor and Sam's skill and a few of Jack's best jokes to calm the situation down and apologize to their satisfaction, but they managed eventually. By the time the meeting was adjourned most people seemed convinced of the Asgard's honor and those who weren't didn't seem likely to take up arms about it.

Jack was almost ecstatic, although for different reasons. Now that he had his voice back, Daniel was going to get it, and he was never going to hear the end of it.


	2. Daniel

Pairings: None this chapter

Spoilers: Mentions technology used in Proving Ground.

Season: Pre season 8

Author's Note: This is probably the longest time between updates in the history of fanfiction. All I can really say about that is sorry. When I wrote the first chapter I had no idea that something more was going to come of it, but awhile later (with the help of the people who reviewed) I decided that I liked the idea enough to make a longer story out of it. So, sorry for the delay, hopefully this was worth the wait. I've got ideas for more chapters, and it shouldn't take much to update this story faster than I have been

I do have to put a time frame within the day, so this all makes sense: the briefing last chapter happened at about 0800, Jack and Sam left with Thor at about 0900, and they get back at the very beginning of this chapter at about 1700 that night.

This time it's Daniel's thoughts that are in italics.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 2: Daniel

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack and Sam arrived back in the gate room with a flash of light. A few of the airmen stationed there raised their weapons momentarily but dropped them as soon as the dazzling light dimmed enough for them to see who'd beamed down.

"Welcome back," came the familiar voice of Sergeant Harriman from the control room. "General Hammond wants to see you in his office immediately.

"You got it," Jack yelled up to the sergeant, who looked surprised to see him speaking aloud. However, if Jack's answer had been reflecting his current mood he would have moaned his reply. Six hours of diplomacy and they're can't even get a shower before the debriefing.

Jack tried not to wonder whether he'd have been allowed that shower had they returned by Stargate, a much more expedient mode of transportation. Sam had shot that idea down back on the planet by reminding Jack of the mess they'd left of Thor's ship, and Thor seemed inclined to agree. Jack was about to remind them that Thor had conjured all those papers out of thin air in the first place and probably had a similar way of destroying them, but the part of his brain that spoke in Daniel's voice had informed him that helping their most powerful ally, even with menial tasks, was a good idea. A mental argument had ensued, and since Jack decided to stop short of actually yelling at his own head, his usual remedy for dealing with both Daniel and his mental version of the archaeologist, Daniel had won.

Thus, Jack and Sam trudged up the stairs. Jack had only a few thoughts to sustain him: (1) those aliens were one of the few races they'd met that actually had a decent sense of humor, (2) he had his voice back, (3) he could finally get back at Daniel for teasing him, (4) he had his voice back, (5) he hadn't had to wear his dress blues for the trip back, and (6) he had his voice back. About thirty seconds after they'd been beamed aboard Thor's ship, Jack had ducked around the nearest corner and changed back into his green fatigues. Sam, who had changed into her dress uniform on base in the first place, hadn't faired nearly so well, and, with a pang of guilt, Jack saw that she was walking rather tenderly, evidence that standing for hours in high heels had finally gotten to her.

The debriefing was relatively painless, and within half an hour Jack had washed off all the negotiating cooties in that long awaited shower and was in the commissary snacking on a piece of pie. A few minutes later, Daniel came in, along with a group of airman. Jack looked up as the archaeologist sat down across from him and noticed that one airman had detached himself from the group, which was headed for the other side of the room, and made for the next table over instead.

Jack wasn't sure what Daniel could have done while he was gone to earn himself an escort, but hoped he could somehow use the fact to his advantage. Thus far his plan had been pretty indistinct; simply pretend he still couldn't talk until Daniel said something Jack could really nail him on. However, that plan was quickly being foiled as Daniel seemed determined to make Jack start the conversation, whether he thought the colonel could talk or not.

Finally, Jack could take it no longer and said, "So, Daniel, what's up?"

If Daniel was surprised with Jack's newfound ability to speak he didn't show it, instead he suddenly sprang to his feet, looking livid, and sneered in a Goa'uld voice, "How dare you speak to me with such insolence? Kneel before your god!"

Most people currently inhabiting the commissary were watching them now. Some looked fearful, but the rest seemed to have realized that even if Daniel had been taken over by a Goa'uld, the parasite wouldn't have gone and advertised the fact in the middle of a room full of airmen. Those people merely looked confused. Jack noticed, much to his own chagrin, that the airmen who had arrived at the same time as Daniel were laughing hysterically, as was Daniel's escort. Jack himself had nearly tipped backwards in his chair from the shock of it, but had luckily managed to regain his senses and composure before he did anything stupid, or painful.

What was Daniel doing with a voice modulator anyway? This was no doubt to make sure Jack couldn't live down his own unintended impression of a Goa'uld in the briefing room that morning too easily. There was something odd about it, though. The modulators typically gave a very convincing performance, but Daniel's voice had somehow sounded very hollow. And, as Jack observed the scientist sitting down, he had yet to turn the device off, even though the joke was long over. Jack took a moment to consider the matter. The voice modulators used mostly vibrations from the chest and throat to create that fiendishly eerie feedback, but it still needed the person's actual voice to-

Oh…

Ha!

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Backing up a little

Daniel had been feeling very smug throughout his entire one-sided conversation with Jack in the commissary right up until the Colonel had been beamed up by Thor. After he'd learned the nature and purpose for Jack's alien abduction it had taken every ounce of better judgement he possessed to keep from cursing Thor's preference of Jack over him. The man couldn't even talk. However, Daniel took consolation in the fact that Jack probably wished Daniel were going in his place about as much as he did, and used that knowledge to help force his temper into line as he retreated to his office.

Daniel spent the better part of the day hard at work on a translation. As was his usual practice, he tended to mutter aloud then as he wrote his translation down. He was so engrossed in his work that he barely noticed how often he was clearing his throat or that his voice was getting steadily more and more hoarse. The dilemma didn't become apparent to him until he was speaking to another archaeologist's assistant and his voice cracked spectacularly, a problem that was only exasperated by the fact that she was rather attractive and Daniel had been trying to play it cool.

His day went steadily downhill from there, until it was quite obvious that whatever bug Jack had, he had given it to Daniel. He had a pretty good idea what Doctor Fraiser would tell him, but felt obligated to visit the infirmary anyway, although it was mostly due to the rule that any injury or illness sustained on base or off world had to be officially filed.

Doctor Fraiser told him exactly what he expected, but also insisted on a full blood test to "check for the possibility of alien contagions" since she'd never seen such a vehement sore throat without the other symptoms of a cold or flu, let alone a contagious one.

Daniel left the infirmary in a much bitterer mood than he'd arrived with, not that he'd really expected to hear anything different, although a cure would have been nice. He often considered his luck with speech to be one of his only saving graces on a base full of gung ho military personnel and soon developed the opinion that walking through the hallways without the means to defend himself verbally was about as intelligent as walking into a Goa'uld fortress without a gun.

That was what led him to the voice modulators. Even if he had no voice at all, they still worked well enough, and had the added benefit of instilling fear in whomever he was talking to. However, after he'd been held up at gunpoint for the third time in a row, he was rather tired of that part of the deal, and thus recruited an airman to follow him around and make sure he wasn't shot on sight, which was about as far as he'd gotten when he heard Jack and Sam were back, and immediately gone to find his commanding officer, hastily concocting a plan.

A plan which thoroughly abandoned Daniel about ten seconds into his conversation with Jack. Daniel was well aware that Jack was much more intelligent than he made out to be, but usually chose to ignore the fact whenever it suited him, which is why he was caught so off guard when Jack seemed to completely see through his scam after he'd only gotten to say one miserable thing. Jack was currently eyeing him with a very self-satisfied look, which made Daniel want to squirm a little.

"You might want to turn that off now," Jack suggested. "I think you're scaring all the little scientists."

"I don't know," Daniel shrugged, leaving the modulator on. "I kind of like it."

"You like sounding like a snake head?" Jack seemed disgusted.

"It feels kind of powerful, talking like this," Daniel replied.

"I guess you would like that," Jack said.

Daniel shot him a look. "The Tok'ra talk like this too."

"I said snake head, not Goa'uld," Jack reminded him.

Quick as a flash, Jack reached forward and relieved Daniel of the voice modulator, ripping the microphone and speaker from is chest and the battery pack and control box from an inner pocket. Robbed of his ability to object to this robbery, it was all the archeologist could do to stare and gape, rubbing his arm where the battery pack had collided with it. In the meantime, Jack had taken to twirling the voice modulator triumphantly.

"How's it going, Daniel? Nice to know you're not a Goa'uld. Very nice impression by the way.

Daniel rolled his eyes.

_Well done. You can remember what I said._

"So," Jack continued. "The tables are turned." Several diabolical ideas were clearly dancing around behind his eyes.

Daniel glared at his tormentor with all the defiance he could muster.

"Well, what goes around…"

…_comes around, I know._

"You just through the end of that cliché, didn't you?" Jack said happily.

Daniel rolled his eyes.

_Of course I did._

Jack squirmed in his seat and sat up a little straighter.

Daniel raised his eyebrows and lifted the corners of his mouth slightly.

_Caught that wave, did you?_

Jack's mouth dropped open, but he managed to recover before Daniel could articulate another rebuttal.

"Have you tried the tea? It's supposed to work wonders."

_Works wonders on what?_

Daniel irritably rubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth, feeling his burned taste buds. Yes, he'd tried the tea. After coming across the second sore throat in a day, Doctor Fraiser had been rather eager to try and find a remedy.

"No good, then?" Jack asked.

Daniel shook his head.

"Too bad," Jack replied. "Guess you'll just have to wait it out then."

_Thanks for all your reassurances._

"You could make yourself some cards to hold up so people can tell what you're trying to say." Jack suggested.

_Or you could just give me that voice modulator back._

"Then again, you do talk a lot and tend to say different things all the time," Jack continued thoughtfully. "You'd probably be better by the time you finished writing down everything you say."

_Funny, if I tilt my head to the left and stick my finger in my right ear that almost sounds like a compliment._

"What are you doing?"

_Nothing. Just, you know, earwax._

They weren't quite through with giving each other strange looks when Sergeant Harriman's voice rang through the intercom.

"Doctor Jackson, please report to General Hammond's office."

Daniel was half way out of his chair before he realized that there was a problem with this scenario. He and Jack might be able to carry on a more or less normal conversation even if only one of them could speak, but verbal responses were usually required during meetings with General Hammond.

For all Jack's apparent lack of intelligence, he seemed to have figured out that fact quite a bit faster than Daniel, but instead of making himself useful and offering over the voice modulator, he merely smiled crookedly up at the archeologist.

"I think you have someplace to be."

Daniel scowled and turned to go, but didn't remain alone for long. Apparently, Jack had decided that he would get more enjoyment out of watching Daniel continue to squirm than finishing his pie.

Still, there were some benefits to this development. Jack never withheld any aid he could give to his teammates when they were off world, and while it was true that General Hammond was no alien menace, perhaps if Jack saw Daniel in hot enough water he would hand over the voice modulator.

Jack remained behind in the briefing room, waving goodbye to Daniel as he knocked and entered General Hammond's office.

"Ah, Doctor Jackson," General Hammond said, straightening a few stray papers on his desk. "Please sit down."

Daniel sat.

"I've got a diplomatic mission for you," Hammond began. "Major Carter's preliminary analysis of the soil on P2Y-386 indicates high levels of naquadah."

Daniel's eyes flicked up and then back to General Hammond, just as blank as they'd been before, having gained no insight from their brief perusal of the ceiling.

"That's what we've designated the planet Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter visited with Thor today," Hammond clarified. "I'd like you to travel there and negotiate a trade agreement."

Daniel nodded hesitantly.

"Although I suppose that will have to wait until you've got your voice back," Hammond continued.

Daniel stared. Hammond knew?

"Three airmen in addition to you have also fallen victim to whatever was ailing Colonel O'Neill this morning," Hammond explained. "I know that's the reason for your silence. However, I'd heard that you figured out a way to speak anyway. A voice modulator, isn't it?"

Daniel nodded, glancing momentarily to where Jack was watching them through the window.

"Ah," Hammond said, following his gaze. "Say no more."

_No trouble there._

Hammond stood up and left and a moment later Daniel was eavesdropping on his conversation with Jack.

"Do you currently have a voice modulator in your possession, Colonel?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hand it over."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Yes, sir."

Hammond returned and handed the voice modulator back to a smirking Daniel.

"Under ordinary circumstances, I'd think it best for Colonel O'Neill and the rest of SG-1 to return with you, since he's already established a rapport with these people. However, considering the current situation, you'll be going with SG-12 instead."

"Thank you, sir," Daniel replied, his grateful tone completely overpowered by his Goa'uld voice.


	3. Sam

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate.

**Chapter 3: Sam**

Sam wasn't especially troubled when she lost her voice. It was inconvenient and annoying, certainly, and it didn't help that her voice had left her entirely in the middle of a phone conversation with Doctor Lee, but in general hers was quiet work, and Doctor Lee had figured out what happened to her quickly enough.

The word that Jack had briefly lost his voice two days ago had circulated the base like a wildfire, only fueled by the fact that base personnel left and right were coming down with similar symptoms. Still more conveniently, SG-1 didn't have any scheduled missions for the next few days, so after an overworked Doctor Fraiser pronounced her fit for base work, Sam had happily, if silently, returned to her lab.

She barely even looked up when Jack wandered in a few hours later. After all, he often came by with he stated intention of distracting her. The only trouble was that she now lacked a polite way of asking him to go away. Perhaps if he thought she was ignoring him he'd take the hint and leave her alone. However, that plan came crashing down when Daniel followed him inside, looking smug. It seemed as though she had more than a distraction on her hands.

_You weren't laughing yesterday, Daniel._

"Word has it you lost your voice, Carter," Jack said.

_Yes, well, it was hard not to, since I spent so much time translating for you._

"That's a pity, Sam," Daniel continued. He didn't sound at all sorry for her.

_And how long were you talking like a Goa'uld, Daniel? Fifteen hours, was it?_

"Do you think she's trying to communicate?" Daniel whispered to Jack, as though Sam couldn't understand him.

_Oh no. I will not be your next alien experiment!_

"I think this requires further study," Jack replied.

"LET ME WORK!" Sam typed in large letters at the end of a report she'd been working on, then spun the laptop around so her tormentors could read it.

However, Jack and Daniel continued on as though they hadn't seen her request.

"She seems incapable of verbal communication," Jack offered. "Maybe you should try sign language."

Before Sam had quite resigned herself to tapping out her previous message in Morse code, Daniel came up with another idea.

"Telepathy, maybe?"

Sam cringed.

"Perhaps," Jack agreed.

"She seemed to know what you were thinking when you couldn't talk," Daniel pointed out. "Maybe it works both ways."

_Oh no._

"Well, I could give it a try," Jack said with a shrug.

_Come on. I didn't tease the two of you. Well, not a lot, at least._

Sam stepped back from her desk and Jack moved in to examine a device she'd been working on recently. He picked up part of it and showed it to Daniel.

"So, this here's a doohickey," Jack explained coolly. When the thing split into two pieces in his hand, he narrowly managed to avoid dropping one, then added, "See it's called a doohickey because it's actually got two parts, the doo and the hickey."

Sam would have let her fury be known at that point, but she'd broken that particular piece apart too many times to really blame him for anything.

Jack tried to put them back together the way they were before, but he couldn't make them fit, so he set the two pieces on the desk and continued on, peering into the instrument and saying, "Sometimes the doo and the hickey don't like to work like they're supposed to. Anyway, the doohickey hooks up to the doodinger, which is very similar to the doohickey but differs where the dinger and hickey are concerned. The doodinger's connected to the hopper, the hopper's connected to the whatchamacallit, the whachamacallit's connected to the…um…" he paused for a moment, but seemed to decide that a cliché was justified in this case, "…thighbone, which wraps around this thingy for awhile, it all ends up over here at the dingle. So when you put it all together you get a whatchadoohickeydingermathingycallit von dingle hopper, other wise known as that thing we picked up on P5R-297."

"Enlightening," Daniel muttered.

"Wasn't it though," Jack replied.

"You do know we found that device on P8X-235," Daniel pointed out.

"Where did I say we found it?" Jack asked. When Daniel didn't answer, Jack turned to Sam and said, "That was fun, do you have anything else I can play with?"

Sam's only response was to sit down and bury her head in her arms. It was difficult to tell if whether she was laughing or crying.

"Not a problem, I can find something myself," Jack said, undeterred. "Hey, what's this dimblewhatsit?"

"That's an electron microscope, Jack," Daniel replied.

"I like my name better."

------------

Author's Note: Every time I read that it just sounds dirtier and dirtier. I didn't mean Jack's "explanation" like it sounded, and neither did he.


	4. Teal'c

Disclaimer: I still don't own Stargate.

Author's Note: Just in case you forget, intars are the modified training weapons from "Rules of Engagement" and "Proving Ground" that look like the real thing but actually shoot non lethal energy.

Thanks to Zylstra for the review and the correction. I thought I had my loose/lose problems sorted out, but apparently not. Good call.

MuseUrania, Sam had the shortest chapter because I'm running out of ideas. I tried for weeks to come up with more stuff that would give Sam trouble because she didn't have a voice, but none of my ideas were any good.

**Chapter 4: Teal'c**

SG-1 and SG-3 were sitting across from each other at the table in the briefing room, glaring at each other. Normally, these teams got along very well and had saved each other's butts on numerous occasions, but now they had been issued a challenge.

Most people on base agreed that it was pointless, but the Air Force required that all personnel undergo training missions at least once every six months. It just so happened that SG-1 and SG-3's turns came at the same time, and General Hammond had just informed them that, while they couldn't face any alien enemies with the sore throat virus still floating around the base, they would be fulfilling those regulations by butting heads with each other in a game of capture the flag.

"Are you sure about the capture the flag idea, Sir?" Jack asked carefully. "Doesn't it sound a bit…"

"Juvenile?" supplied Colonel Reynolds, commander of SG-3.

"Yeah," Jack finished.

Hammond smiled. "You will be armed…"

"Armed, Sir?" Jack asked, a look of concern crossing his face. Reynolds caught his eye and sent him a mocking look. "I mean, I'm just worried about taking SG-3 out of commission."

"Armed with intars," Hammond finished.

"Oh," Jack said. "Well, all right then."

"Suit up," General Hammond finished. "You leave for the Alpha Site in half an hour."

------------

When the two teams reached the Alpha Site, Colonel Riley, commander of the Alpha Site, escorted them to their playing field, explaining that the flags and boundaries had already been set up. They parted company at the red dividing line and SG-1 set off through the hilly and forested terrain in search of their flag.

"Excellent place for a picnic," Jack said when they found their flag in a small clearing at the base of two low hills. "Carter, hide up on one of those hills and shoot anyone who tries to take our flag."

"Yes, sir," Sam replied, still a bit hoarse. She'd only regained her voice that morning. Without another word, she turned and jogged up the nearest hill.

"Daniel, come with us back to the boundary and try to keep Reynolds and his boys from getting across," Jack continued as the three remaining teammates started walking back the way they'd come.

"They're Marines, Jack," Daniel protested.

"So?" Jack said with a shrug.

"So I'll get shot before I even see them coming," Daniel pointed out.

"Hide up in a tree or something," Jack suggested. "Maybe they won't think to look up there."

"Oh, brilliant idea," Daniel muttered.

"Teal'c, you're with me," Jack said, turning to the Jaffa.

Ordinarily, Teal'c might have taken the opportunity to voice his opinion on the subject, perhaps suggest that Major Carter might be better suited to patrolling the border while Daniel Jackson defended the flag, but he was thwarted by the same thing that had prevented him from questioning the purpose of this capture the flag game back in the briefing room: he had no voice to give to his opinion.

Teal' wasn't especially troubled by the disappearance of his voice although it was a bit inconvenient considering the circumstances. He didn't often feel the need to speak he'd correct the problem as soon as he had the time to Kel-no-reem anyway. However, for the time being, Teal'c could only bow his reply.

"Great," Jack said, leaning to his radio and pushing the button. "SG-1 is ready."

"Copy that, stand by for SG-3," Riley replied over the radio.

Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c had reached the boundary before SG-3 pronounced themselves ready.

"Took you long enough!" Jack shouted to the surrounding shrubbery.

"SG-1, please remain on channel one, SG-3, please move to channel five," Riley commanded over the radio. "The game will begin at the flare."

A rocket spiraled up into the air, leaving an orange trail behind it, then exploded above them. Without another word, Jack and Teal'c darted across the boundary and into the underbrush.

They got separated a few seconds later when someone from SG-3 heard them and began firing red bolts of energy in their direction. Jack continued running recklessly forward, but Teal'c hung back and ducked behind the nearest boulder. He paused for a moment, listening to the gunfire and footsteps then lifted his modified staff weapon.

"Teal'c, where are you?" Jack's voice fizzled over the radio.

Teal'c glanced down at his radio then fired his staff weapon a few times, earning a satisfying yelp from the troublesome Marine.

"Never mind," Jack said.

Teal'c continued searching for the flag, aided greatly by a trail of footprints he found leading into the forest.

"Colonel, this is Carter. Be apprised that a member of SG-3 has made an attempt on the flag, but he didn't make it very far."

"Good work, Carter. Teal'c got one, so that leaves us with two. Daniel, what's your status?"

After a few seconds passed with no response Jack tried again. "Daniel?"

Still nothing.

"Marines must have gotten him."

"Should I go check on him, Sir?"

"Negative, hold your position. Teal'c and I are still going after the flag."

Teal' tapped the talk button on his radio show that he had heard and understood and continued tracking his quarry. He didn't have far to go before he caught a glimpse of the flag standing at the top of a high open hill.

Teal'c stood still and listened, trying to determine where a guard might be hiding, but such an obstacle could be neither seen nor heard. Slowly, Teal'c ventured onward, but before long Jack came running forward on the other side of the hill, effectively nullifying all of Teal'c's attempts toward caution.

Without giving it a second thought, Teal'c broke cover and joined Jack's assault. This tactic had one advantage: there was no question now about where the guard was hiding. He stood up from behind a large bush in front of the hill and aimed his gun at Jack. The red bolt of light winged the Colonel and he tripped, but a second later the guard was rendered unconscious by a far larger bolt from Teal'c's staff.

"Go for the flag!" Jack shouted as he pulled himself painfully to his feet.

Teal'c turned and raced up the hill, warily watching for a second guard, but apparently there was none and he retrieved the flag without incident.

"Carter, have you seen the fourth man?" Jack yelled into his radio as he met Teal'c at the bottom of the hill, limping slightly on a numb leg.

"Negative, Sir, no activity here."

"He must be back here somewhere," Jack muttered. "I'm not keeping up with you like this, Teal'c. Go for the boundary, I'll watch your back."

Teal'c nodded and sprinted away, but before he'd gotten very far a red bolt of light overtook him, striking him in the arm. He nearly dropped the flag but managed to hold on to it and awkwardly shifted it and his staff weapon so they were both in the same hand.

"I'll handle him," Jack shouted. "Keep going!"

Teal'c continued running, but aimed a shot at where the opposing fire had come from anyway. Thirty seconds later the red boundary line was in sight and he bounded across it.

"SG-1 wins," said Colonel Riley said over the radio.

Jack ran up behind Teal'c and patted his shoulder. "Nice work."

Teal'c bowed his thanks.

"I wonder what happened to Daniel," Jack said, looking around.

------------

SG-1 and SG-3 were forced to endure several hours of critique in the briefing room back at the SGC. SG-3 wasted no time demanding a rematch and Jack was only too happy to challenge them "any where, any time."

SG-1 had hardly been able to contain their smug looks, all except Daniel, who had been discovered after half an hour of searching, unconscious and draped over a low tree branch near the boundary. He still had a red welt in the middle of his forehead.

When they were finally released, Jack dragged Teal'c into the nearest hallway.

"You couldn't talk for that entire time, could you?" he demanded.

"Indeed I could not," Teal'c replied.

Jack jumped, apparently not expecting Teal'c to have regained his voice already. In fact he looked a bit annoyed.

"You are disappointed that you did not get the opportunity to taunt me," Teal'c inferred.

"Well, yeah," Jack admitted.

"My symbiote has healed me," Teal'c explained as he bowed and turned to continue down the hallway.

"Well good for it," Jack yelled after him.


	5. Walter

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Stargate.

Author's Note: Unfortunately, this is going to be the last chapter, for real this time. This started out as a one shot, then it was going to be an actual story with a plot where everyone eventually got sick, but it turns out that I don't have nearly enough ideas for that, so it kind of worked out to be more like a ficlet. Sorry to disappoint you, but I decided that it would be much worse to try and keep going when there was nothing really left to say. So, thanks for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

**Chapter 5: Walter**

"Dial the gate," Hammond commanded.

"Yes Sir," Sergeant Harriman replied, at least he tried to, because all that actually came out of his mouth was a pathetic crack.

Walter paused with his hands over the keyboard and cleared his throat cautiously. And here he'd been thinking that he'd made it through the sore throat season without actually catching the bug.

"Is there a problem Sergeant?" Hammond asked.

Walter tried to voice his reply at first, but caught himself at the last second and shook his head instead, returning his attention to his task. He was only dialing the gate, after all, he didn't really need to speak.

It wasn't until the gate whirled to life and the first chevron clicked into place that Walter realized there was something very important he was supposed to be doing.

By the time the second chevron was encoded everyone in the control room and half the people in the gate room were staring at him, looking confused.

Walter sat up uncomfortably. This wasn't good at all! What if someone didn't realize the gate was about to activate? Anyone could…

_Chevron three encoded._

…anyone could walk up and be enveloped by the vortex. Siler, especially, was…

_Chevron four encoded._

…was standing dangerously near the gate, checking a power converter or some such.

_Chevron five encoded._

This was getting desperate. Someone had to warn the people down there.

_Chevron six encoded!_

"Look out!" Walter forced himself to squeak into the microphone.

His ears couldn't have told him what his mouth was trying to say, but the people down in the gate room seemed to have gotten the general idea. The scientists in the room threw themselves to the ground defensively and the airman all pointed their guns at the rotating gate. There was a moment of tense silence as they waited to see what they were looking out for. The final chevron locked and the gate whooshed open anticlimactically.

Walter opened first one eye and then the other. There didn't seem to be any casualties. Instead, a dozen people were glaring up at him from the gate room.

"What's the problem?" Hammond asked.

Walter came back to his senses with a start. "The gate sir," he croaked. "It was turning on."

"Is it an outgoing wormhole?"

"Yes Sir."

"Is that all?" Hammond pressed.

Walter nodded, feeling as though his voice had reached it's finally straw.

Hammond rolled his eyes and leaned over to the microphone. "SG-11, you have a go."

The leader of SG-11 waved up at the control room as he and his team stepped through the Stargate.

When the gate had shut down, Hammond returned his attention to Harriman.

"Sorry, Sir," Walter whispered.

"Get yourself to the infirmary," Hammond ordered.

"Yes Sir." Walter was so eager to leave that he nearly tripped over his chair in his haste.


End file.
